


A Hogwarts Detective Mystery

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, H/D Cluefest 2021, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Masturbation, Mystery, Sexual Tension, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:42:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29628570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Harry returns to Hogwarts for his Eighth Year with Ron and Hermione after defending Draco Malfoy at his trial over the summer. Malfoy has returned too...but he's acting incredibly suspicious. So, naturally, Harry decides to stalk-er-follow him when he leaves the Eighth Year Common Room after hours one evening. It turns out that Malfoy has noticed something is amiss at Hogwarts, and he and Harry must work together to solve a mystery of disappearing portraits, randomly changing house colours on uniforms, and the Gryffindor Common Room suddenly appearing in the dungeons. What is happening to the castle?  Will self-appointed detectives Harry and Draco discover what secrets are lying within the walls of Hogwarts...and their hearts?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 23
Kudos: 50
Collections: H/D Cluefest 2021





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoffeeCurse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeCurse/gifts).



> Thank you so much to @CoffeeCurse for the brilliant prompt--my imagination just went wild! I hope you enjoy this fic ^_^ 
> 
> And an extra big shout out to my Betas C** and V** (full usernames censored until reveals to ensure anonymity!). Thank you to the moon and back for your dedication and wonderful tips throughout this process <3

Malfoy was acting suspicious. Very suspicious. Harry wasn’t sure why. But Malfoy just  _ was _ . Ever since the trial, Malfoy seemed to do all he could to distance himself from Harry as often as possible. And Harry found it…irritating. No. He found it  _ infuriating _ . 

Harry had leapt to defend Malfoy at his trial and spent weeks with Hermione and Ron reading up on wixen law to keep him from suffering in Azkaban with his parents. In the end, he’d ended up getting Malfoy cleared of all charges.

And NOW who was Harry seeing ferreting around the castle in the middle of the night? None other than that sneaky, conniving Slytherin Draco Malfoy. 

Harry re-adjusted his Invisibility Cloak to ensure no part of him was peeking through. Quiet as the cold breeze blowing through the sixth-floor corridor, he followed Malfoy as he suspiciously investigated the walls— tapping on a stone here, a stone there. Squinting. Taking a step back. Tilting his head to the right and biting his lower lip in concentration. 

_ What in Merlin’s name could he  _ possibly _ be doing?  _

Harry had followed Malfoy all the way from the Eighth-Year Common Room in the East Wing, along the corridor, and towards the Grand Staircase. Once they arrived there, Malfoy inspected around a dozen portraits with such scrutiny Harry could have sworn Malfoy must have been looking for something specific. While Malfoy inspected a portrait of a wix at a desk surrounded by books, Harry instinctively felt drawn to look at one of his favorite portraits: Godric Gryffindor in his magnificent robes of red and gold—his long ginger hair and beard framing his face which bore an expression of determination and strength Harry had always admired. 

Harry had visited the portrait only a few evenings ago at the start of term, but as his eyes came to rest upon it, he abruptly started and let out an audible gasp. Malfoy’s head snapped up the Grand Staircase and looked straight through Harry who was standing only a few steps above him, invisible under his cloak and now holding his breath. Malfoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously but turned back to continue his inspection of the scholarly wix. 

Once Malfoy seemed to have forgotten the sharp rush of air he’d heard on the otherwise deserted staircase, Harry shook his head in  _ silent  _ disbelief at the patch of castle wall in front of him. There was no portrait there. 

Well, there  _ was.  _ In fact, there were three portraits Harry wasn’t familiar with sharing the castle wall where the founder of Gryffindor House’s portrait usually hung, ready to give all Gryffindors that walked by a subtle wink and confidence boost as they went about their day. Harry knew this was the correct spot—thanks to the  Marauders' Map _ , _ Harry felt he knew the castle better than he knew himself. Every hidden passageway and secret room—Harry could walk the halls of Hogwarts with his eyes closed. And he didn’t like seeing something out of place. It was...quite suspicious. 

As was Malfoy, who had suddenly gasped, even louder than Harry had before, and was now bolting down the stairs. Harry almost tripped over the Invisibility Cloak trying to follow without losing sight of the Slytherin as he leapt down several flights of stairs and sprinted across the Entrance Hall, scrambling towards the dungeons.

Harry felt a ridiculous urge to call out and tell Malfoy to wait, but of course Harry was still invisible, and Malfoy was not his  _ friend. _ They were not on a midnight stroll together taking in the sights, reliving jolly good memories from previous years. Harry just  _ had _ to find out why Malfoy had been acting so suspicious since arriving at Hogwarts for Eighth Year—and it looked like he just might find that out tonight. 

Malfoy stopped in front of a bare stretch of stone wall which Harry knew was the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Malfoy looked nervous, beads of sweat dripping down his face, his limbs shaking. The fear flickering in his eyes made Harry’s heart race and his own palms sweat. He followed his instinct and reached to draw his wand from his robes. 

But before he could do so, the stone façade trembled, and three young students, obviously First-Years, appeared… as if they were stumbling through a large hole instead of just walking along the passageway to the Slytherin Common Room. 

“Shh!” said one, shoulder-length corkscrew curls bouncing as they shook their head in irritation.

“ _ You  _ ‘Shh!’” replied the second, who had bright ginger hair reminiscent of Godric’s, but it was buzzed and styled into an expert fade. 

“Don’t worry, no one will catch us—” The last student was much louder than the other two. When they appeared in the corridor, Harry noticed the last wix had long flowing brown hair—on one side. The right side. On the left side, the hair was buzzed short, within a couple millimeters of the wix’s head. 

The students immediately took notice of Malfoy standing in front of them and let out a startled scream and then clasped their hands over their hearts, sighing— evidently relieved it was “just” Malfoy and not Professor Slughorn, or worse, Mr. Filch. 

Harry would have found this comical if Malfoy wasn’t squinting at the students with suspicion that mirrored Harry’s own.  _ What was Malfoy playing at? Getting randomly startled on the Grand Staircase and taking off in a dead sprint to the Slytherin Common Room in the middle of the night? Did he  _ know  _ these kids?  _

“Sorry!” the first wix said. “Thought you were Professor McGonagall…she almost caught us last night.” 

“McGonagall?” Malfoy asked, shocked.

Harry was also confused. Why would these Slytherins be worrying about McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor, catching them sneaking out of the dungeons in the middle of the night? 

“Wait a minute…” The second wix with the buzz cut was peering around them. “Folks…this is not the Seventh-Floor corridor.”

“How could you be on the Seventh Floor,” Draco began, “if you've just left the Slytherin Common Room?”

Three pairs of eyes bulged in their sockets and spun around to look at the dungeon wall behind them.

“The Fat Lady!” they exclaimed in unison.

“Where has she gone?” asked the wix with half-long/half-short hair. 

“We _are_ in the dungeons, aren’t we?” said the first wix, who had clambered into the corridor, brown eyes darkening in recognition.

“You’re not Slytherins, are you?” Malfoy asked, and Harry had been thinking the same thing.

“Of course not!” said the wix with the buzz cut. “Isn’t it obvious we’re in Gryffindor?” They touched the crest on their robes and pulled it forward for Malfoy to see.

“Yeah, we’re _First_ Years,” said the one with curls, pulling at their cloak as well.

When Malfoy took a step forward to look, Harry did the same, still hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak.

He expected the First Years’ crests to be red, gold, and silver with a lion perched on its hind legs. However, he saw it was bright yellow, black and grey with a badger in the center.

“Not Hufflepuffs?” Malfoy asked, and Harry noticed his deep slate grey eyes were twinkling with curiosity.

Harry blinked and chastised himself for getting caught up in irrelevant details. He’d had enough of this.

He tore off the Invisibility Cloak and the three younger wixen shrieked again as another Eighth Year materialized directly in front of them, right at Malfoy’s shoulder.

Malfoy only raised his eyebrows a tick before neutralizing his expression.

“I should have known.” Malfoy shook his head and then his lips curled up in a smirk. “I guess old habits die hard, eh, Potter? You just can’t stop following me, can you?”

“Not when you’re acting suspicious as fuck, I can’t.”

“ _Language_ , Potter,” Malfoy chided. “Set an example, won’t you?”

“Er… do you mind telling us what’s going on here?”

It was the young wix with the half-long/half-short hair who had spoken.

Malfoy tore his eyes away from Harry and glanced down at the First-Year who was squinting up at them, their lips pursed in an inquisitive expression that reminded Harry of Hermione.

“I wish I could,” Malfoy said, “but I’m just a lowly detective with barely a scrap of evidence.” Malfoy turned back to Harry, gently resting his gaze upon him once again. “Perhaps if I had a partner.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open before he could stop himself. He quickly cleared his throat and squinted his eyes, casting his best glare (the one he reserved specifically for Malfoy). “Partner-in- _crime_ , you mean?”

“You said it, Potter. Not me.” Malfoy’s smirk spread into what Harry thought mimicked a real smile quite well. _If_ Malfoy would ever smile at him, that is, which Harry knew he wouldn’t.

“Come on, Potter,” Malfoy said, and to Harry’s utter shock he saw Malfoy holding out his hand to him.

“There seems to be another Hogwarts mystery afoot. And perhaps if we help each other, we’ll be able to crack it. What do you say?”

Harry stared at Malfoy’s hand for what felt like a solid minute, just an arm’s length in front of him. He raised his eyes to meet Malfoy’s, in which Harry felt a confident, open, and…playful pull—quite unlike anything he’d ever felt when looking at Draco Malfoy before.

Harry’s suspicions didn’t completely evaporate in that moment. But his gut instinct, maybe his _magical_ instinct, flipped a switch in Harry’s mind. 

“I say…bring it on. _Partner._ ” In that moment, Harry felt the seedlings of trust, which had started to bloom during his work on the trial, take root in him, and he brought his hand out to grasp Malfoy’s.


	2. Chapter Two

“So. What’s going on, Malfoy?”

Harry and Malfoy were sitting across from each other at a table in the middle of the Room of Requirement. It had transformed into a comfortable meeting room of sorts. The two Eighth Years were seated at a long oak table that could easily have seated another ten people. The fire was burning and the warmth in the room stood in stark contrast to the harsh autumn wind blowing outside.

“Well, _Potter...”_ And for some reason Malfoy growled Harry’s surname at him and narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “In case you haven’t noticed, things are not as they should be at Hogwarts.”

“Wow, you have such good eyes, _Malfoy_ ,” Harry scoffed.

“Why, thank you, _Potter,_ I always thought so.”

Harry glared at him. “I wasn’t giving you a compliment, _Malfoy.”_

Malfoy smirked back. “Of course not.”

“Malfoy, anyone with eyes can see that something is going on at Hogwarts. Tell me something I don’t know. Like why you’re skulking around in the middle of the night and sneaking off to random parts of the castle. You’re acting just as suspicious as you were in Sixth Year, and we all know how _that_ turned out.”

Malfoy’s smirk immediately disappeared. He crossed his arms and sighed heavily.

“Potter...” There was no malice in the word this time, “I thought you... Fuck. I thought you trusted me.”

Harry didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his gaze to the fireplace, watching the flames lick the wooden logs and stretch up along the stone chimney.

“It was _you_ that defended me at my trial, was it not? Not someone polyjuiced as the Great War Hero?”

Harry closed his eyes slowly. Then opened them again. “Yes, that was me.”

“And did you or did you not get me cleared of all charges?”

“I... I did.”

“And now you regret it?”

Harry looked sharply back at Malfoy. “Of course not. Do you know how hard I—” he cut himself off, his cheeks burning red. Harry willed them to not give himself away.

Finally, Malfoy said, “Well. If you don’t regret it, then you must have trusted me. Or was everything you said during the trial just… a lie… or a.... publicity stunt?”

Potter glared at Malfoy again, fury rising in him. “Fuck you, Malfoy. I don’t do publicity stunts.”

“Famous Harry Potter doesn’t do publicity stunts? What about second year, when you were glued to Gilderoy Lockhart? Or the Triwizard tournament and that interview you gave with Rita Skeeter? Or all those radio and newspaper interviews after the War? You must have told your story a thousand times. You just couldn’t get enough of the glory, could you?”

Harry groaned and slammed the table with his fist, the resulting ~ _bang!~_ reverberating off the stone walls and making Malfoy jump. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Malfoy! Wasn’t it obvious I didn’t want the attention? I never wanted to do any of that bullshit.”

Harry stood and walked towards the fireplace. He placed his hand on the mantle and felt the heat of the fire against his face, already burning with fury. Glancing up at his hand, he noticed the scars of the words _I must not tell lies_ were illuminated by the firelight.

Harry didn’t look back when he heard Malfoy’s chair scrape, followed by soft footfalls. He did jump slightly when he felt Malfoy’s hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t pull away.

When Malfoy spoke, his tone was gentle. “I know you didn’t defend me for a publicity stunt.”

Harry nodded, not yet able to speak.

“And I’m sorry I never thanked you. I was...” Malfoy trailed off, and Harry felt the hand on his shoulder disappear, leaving a chill in its wake.

Strangely, the absence of his touch made Harry uneasy, so he turned to look at the man who had just apologized to him. Malfoy seemed to be waiting for Harry to turn around, and they instantly made eye contact. Harry found himself rooted to the spot, incapable of looking away. They were so close Harry could see his own reflection in Malfoy’s cool grey eyes.

Malfoy’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and then he opened his mouth to continue. “I was embarrassed,” he confessed, and to Harry’s surprise, Malfoy’s pale cheeks went slightly pink. “But...that’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I should have thanked you. For everything you did for me. For my family. I know you fought to get their sentence down from life to fifty years, and for that I am eternally grateful.”

Harry remembered an old muggle saying: the eyes are the window to the soul. He wasn’t sure who’d said it, but in that moment, Harry knew they were right. In that moment, as he stood in the Room of Requirement with Malfoy, their eyes locked on one another, Harry felt he could read Malfoy like an open book. His apology was genuine, as was his gratitude. Harry took a deep breath and allowed a feeling of calm to wash over him. He was certain now that he’d done the right thing. Harry was sure he trusted Malfoy, and guilt began to gnaw at his stomach for how suspicious he’d been.

“You… you’re welcome,” Harry finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I did believe I was doing the right thing when I defended you and your parents.” The guilt had risen, and Harry swallowed over a developing lump in his throat. He blinked and looked away, walking back to the table. Malfoy followed him, and the two sat down across from another once again.

“But when I saw you skulking around the castle again—”

“I wasn’t _skulking!”_ Malfoy protested, indignant.

“Sneaking, then,” Harry amended.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is _sleuthing_ my dear Potter.”

Harry immediately met Malfoy’s eyes, his own widening in shock at the word “dear.” Malfoy’s cheeks, which had only just returned to their normal color, skipped the pink all together and turned crimson red. But to Harry’s surprise, Malfoy held their eye contact, admitting to the verbal slip-up and allowing the awkwardness and confusion of the moment to permeate the air around them. 

Finally, Harry cleared his throat. “ _Sleuthing_ , then. I got suspicious. I was immediately thrown back to Sixth Year. But that wasn’t fair to you. Especially because I... I do trust you. And I have trusted you. For a while now.”

Malfoy offered him a small smile and nodded in gratitude.

“I saw you lower your wand. You wouldn’t have killed Dumbledore. And at Malfoy Manor... you knew it was me.”

“Of course, I knew it was you,” Malfoy said. Then he added, so softly Harry wasn’t sure if he had heard him properly, “How could I not have?”

“And you risked your life by lying to the other Death Eaters. If it weren’t for you... everything would have been different.”

Malfoy shivered.

“Thank you,” Harry said, attempting to make his voice as clear and steady as possible.

Malfoy nodded again. “You’re welcome.”

The two of them were quiet for a few moments. Harry, unsure how to break the silence, gazed into the fireplace and began playing with a loose string on his robes, rubbing it in between his thumb and forefinger then tugging it out gently.

“So...” Malfoy said, and Harry slowly turned to look back at the man across from him.

“This Hogwarts mystery. Shall we tell each other what we know?”

Harry nodded, eager to return to the reason they’d agreed to meet up in the first place. “I must admit, since coming back to Hogwarts, the only thing I’ve noticed is you.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, and it was Harry’s turn to blush. “I mean—” he stumbled over his words as he tried to clarify, “I meant, the only _suspicious_ thing, well, that I _thought_ was suspicious, was you. You know.... sleuthing _._ And, of course, those First-Year Gryffinpuffs in the dungeons.”

An amused smile tugged at Malfoy’s lips.

“Oh!” Harry said, just remembering. “Before you took off for the dungeons, I realized the portrait of Godric Gryffindor was missing, replaced by three smaller paintings I’d never seen before.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened. “It’s _missing?”_

 _“_ Yes. While you were taking your sweet time touring the portrait gallery, I realized that Gryffindor’s had just completely vanished.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t _touring_ the portrait gallery, Potter. I was looking for clues.”

“In the portraits?”

“The disappearance of your beloved Godric isn’t the only strange thing that seems to be happening to the portraits since the start of term. Have you not noticed?”

“No,” Harry said, straightening up in his chair. “Who else is missing?”

“Well, Salazar Slytherin has also vanished, for one. But it’s not just that portraits are going _missing._ They’re also...changing.”

“How… how is that possible?”

“I dunno, Potter. That’s why we call these things a _mystery.”_

Harry scoffed. “Prat.” But there wasn’t any malice behind the word, and Malfoy continued as if Harry hadn’t said anything.

“Anyway, the portraits seem to be a major clue here. In the last couple weeks, I’ve seen dozens of portraits change.”

“Don’t portraits always change a little?” Harry asked, a little embarrassed at his lack of knowledge in this magical department. “I mean, the Fat Lady visits her friends, Sir Cadogan jumps from one frame to the other… Isn’t it normal for magical portraits to just… look different sometimes?”

“You’re quite right. It is common for the people in the portraits to move around, use objects, and visit other paintings. But they always come home. They have to. Or else their magical enchantments would start deteriorating, and they’d be lost forever.”

“I had no idea,” Harry admitted. “What was wrong with the portrait of the wix scholar? At their desk?”

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, evidently surprised Harry had been paying that close attention on the Grand Staircase.

“What’s wrong, is this particular wix has _stopped moving.”_

Harry wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. “Sorry, _what_?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes but repeated himself. “I said… that the wix in this portrait has gone completely still. Not one miniscule movement. Nada. Zip.” Malfoy gave Harry a curious look. “You don’t know who that wix is, do you?”

Harry shook his head. “I figured they were probably just some bookish wix that discovered something important, or _did_ something important a thousand years ago.”

Malfoy nodded. “Yes, Potter. They _did_ discover something important and were one of the most influential wixen in Hogwarts history—if not _all_ history.”

Harry was utterly bewildered. “Tell me,” he prodded Malfoy. “Who are they?”

“Potter… she’s Rowena Ravenclaw.” 


	3. Chapter Three

“Harry, where in Merlin’s name have you been?!”

Hermione was waiting for him in the Eighth-Year common room, Ron had fallen asleep on her lap and awoke with a loud snort at his girlfriend’s words.

Ron straightened up and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, mate. We’ve been worried sick—”

Harry heard and sensed Malfoy step out from behind him and reveal his presence to Ron and Hermione. Almost comically, their eyes widened and Ron’s mouth dropped open in shock.

Neither Harry nor Malfoy said anything. Though they had discussed what they would say when they ran into Ron and Hermione, Harry hadn’t expected it would be _tonight._

“Malfoy,” Hermione said, greeting him gently, but with caution. She then turned her attention back to Harry. “Have you been with Malfoy since you wolfed down your supper and took off _five hours ago_?”

Harry couldn’t pinpoint exactly how Hermione was feeling. She certainly had every reason to seem perplexed, concerned, and maybe even a bit put out at having waited up for him worrying. But she kept her face placid, looking up at him from the couch expectantly.

“Yes,” Harry answered simply. “Malfoy and I have been… talking.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “Talking?”

It was much easier to understand how Ron was feeling. His ears were beet red, and he was fuming.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Ron scoffed, stood up, and approached the two of them, Hermione following behind.

“You’re _sorry?”_

Harry glared at his best mate. “Look, I wasn’t sure how to tell you. I thought you’d react—well, just like this, actually.”

Ron crossed his arms. “I’m reacting like this because you’re keeping us out of the loop. _Again._ And you’re off stalking that ferret _again_. We’re supposed to be your best friends. And after all we’ve been through together, you’d rather hang out with _him?”_

“I have a name, Weasley.”

“I’m not talking to _you_ ,” Ron seethed.

“But I’m right here, Weasley, and it’s impolite to talk about people as if they are not there.”

Ron looked aghast. “You want to talk to _me_ about what’s impolite? After years of treating us all like second-class wixen because we aren’t pureblood like you? After years of you calling Hermione despicable slurs and making fun of me and my family for being poor? You’re a right bastard, you know that?”

Malfoy’s face fell. “Er —you’re right,” he said.

Ron was so taken aback by the admittance it took a second for him to regain composure. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

“You’re right. I’ve been an absolute bastard. And I’ve fucked up majorly in so many ways. But… I’ve changed. Or at least, I’m trying to change. And I apologize for how I’ve treated you… Ron. And Hermione. It was inexcusable.”

“You’re right, it was,” Hermione said. She sounded thoughtful, and she kept looking back and forth between Harry and Malfoy. Her expression was similar to the one she sported when she was stumped by a particularly difficult exam question. “You trust him,” she said finally. Her statement was aimed at Harry.

“I do,” Harry said.

Hermione nodded, then looked to be considering something. Finally, she held out her hand to Malfoy. “Draco, I accept your apology.”

Malfoy let his lips curl into a small grin as he lifted his own hand to shake Hermione’s. “Thank you.” Hermione even returned his smile before letting go.

Ron was looking between his girlfriend, his best mate, and the ex-Death Eater, obviously still torn and frustrated at being put in this position. After a solid minute of silence, he held up his own hand for Malfoy. “I trust Harry with my life. So, if he trusts you, he must have a very good reason. Shall we call this...a clean slate? Draco?”

The name sounded strange coming out of Ron’s mouth. But Malfoy nodded and shook his hand. “A clean slate. Sounds perfect.”

“Well, then...” Harry said. “I suppose you two would probably like to know what the hell’s going on.”

Ron and Hermione returned to the couch and Harry and Malfoy sat in the two armchairs on either side of it. They filled them in on what had happened the other night—the missing and frozen portraits and running into the First-Year Gryffindors with Hufflepuff badges in the dungeons. Harry admitted he’d been following Malfoy because he seemed suspicious, but he and Malfoy had agreed to move forward and put their pasts aside to work together on this mystery.

“Will we ever have a quiet year at Hogwarts?” Ron asked, rubbing his temples.

“Doesn’t seem that way, does it?” Harry said, taking a chocolate frog out of his robes and handing it to his friend.

“Thanks,” Ron mumbled, and tore it open, biting the head clean off.

“Have you two got a plan yet?” Hermione asked. She was wringing her hands nervously in her lap.

“Mostly, we just used tonight to get each other up to speed on what we know,” Malfoy explained. “And now, I suppose it’s time to do some research.”

“I’ll head to the library first thing tomorrow," Hermione said. "I don’t know nearly as much as I should about Rowena Ravenclaw, but there’s a biography I’ve been dying to read. Honestly, I almost check it out every time I go to the library, but I always talk myself out of it. I’m excited to finally have a good excuse now...”

**

As Harry lay in bed that night, his thoughts spun in his head like a hamster wheel. Every time he closed his eyes, he was bombarded with images of Malfoy—his smirk, his smile, his hand reaching out to Harry. But also Malfoy’s eyes, his cheeks burning pink then red, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed, his lips as they formed the words “my dear Potter.” 

Suddenly, Harry felt a distinct rush of arousal flow through him and to his cock which twitched eagerly. _Oh, shit._ Harry was grateful to hear Ron’s snores from the next bed over, grateful that no one would ever know that he was thinking about Draco Malfoy... in bed, his cheeks flaming, heart pounding, his cock hardening with every passing second.

Though Harry had often thought about Draco Malfoy throughout his Hogwarts days, he’d never realized...he’d never even _considered the possibility…_

His attraction to all genders, _that_ he was sure about. Yeah, it had taken him some time to come to terms with his sexuality, with help and support from Ron and Hermione—but that he might actually be attracted to Malfoy?

Oh, there was no denying it now. Harry definitely _was_. His hand was already tracing its way down his body, towards his erection. When his fingers wrapped around his cock, Harry let out a low moan, biting his lip to keep himself from getting too loud. He wiped his thumb over the tip and felt the wetness of precum. Peeking out of the corner of his eye to confirm Ron was still asleep, Harry lifted his thumb to his mouth and licked off the precum, imagining it was Malfoy he was tasting.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered and quickly brought his hand back to his cock, giving it a firm, long stroke. He moaned again and shut his eyes, again imagining Draco Malfoy… the Slytherin’s lips, curved in a flirtatious smirk, licking his lips tantalizingly slowly, his face flushed with arousal. Harry imagined himself staring deep into Malfoy’s eyes as the other man reached down and removed Harry’s hand, replacing it with his own. Forgetting all about Ron in the next bed, Harry began to stroke himself with vigor, lost in the imaginary touch of Draco Malfoy.

He came a short time later, long strings of cum landing all over his naked stomach and chest. Harry groaned in satisfaction at the release, then quickly glanced towards Ron—who was thankfully still fast asleep. Harry sighed and stroked himself until the very last bit of cum had dripped down his shaft and over his fist.

“Fuck,” Harry repeated to himself. W _hat the hell am I going to do now?_

As his breathing began to slow and his heart rate returned to normal, Harry glanced out the window, surprised to see the blindingly bright moon shining back at him. It was nearly full.


	4. Chapter Four

During their free period the next afternoon, Harry, Ron, and Malfoy were sitting in the Room of Requirement, which had transformed itself back into the meeting room from last night. The three of them sat together at one end of the table, consulting _Hogwarts: A History._

Of course, neither Harry nor Ron owned the book themselves, but Malfoy’s looked just as worn as Hermione’s, which Ron was flipping through while Harry scanned the pages of the copy the Room had summoned for him.

“Look here!” Ron said, pointing at a particularly lengthy passage about the staircases. “‘At the turn of the 11th Century, Ravenclaw was considered the most brilliant wix of what would come to be known as Great Britain. It is well-known that she devised the ever-changing floor plan of Hogwarts Castle. However, it is believed Ravenclaw had much more grandiose ideas in addition to the enchanted staircases. It is rumored that the other founders thought it important for Hogwarts to have a basic structure that remained unaltered, and therefore several of Ravenclaw’s plans for the castle were never implemented.’”

“Hmm,” Harry said, and turned the page for more information, but only saw the next section. “But if this is true, then how could the Gryffindor Common Room move from the seventh floor to the dungeons?”

“Not to mention,” Malfoy said, “how are the stone walls reconfiguring themselves and completely altering the basic structure of the castle? It sounds like the other founders wanted to stop precisely that from happening and that’s why only Ravenclaw’s plans for the s _taircases_ were approved.”

“Do you think Ravenclaw went ahead and did the enchantments anyway?” Ron asked.

“That would be quite strange indeed,” Malfoy said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “But then again, Slytherin went and put in the Chamber of Secrets without anyone’s knowledge.”

“But that’s _Slytherin,_ Malfoy,” Harry said.

Malfoy glared at him. “First of all, _Harry,_ I thought we'd agreed to stop using each other’s surnames. Secondly, what do you mean by that?”

Harry’s cheeks flushed and he mumbled, “Sorry.”

“No, really,” Draco pressed. “What do you mean by ‘but that’s _Slytherin?’_ ”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?”

“ _Obviously_ not.”

Harry sighed in frustration. “Slytherin was a pureblood supremacist who didn’t care what the other founders thought. He didn’t care to work with the others, and single-handedly decided he would stop at nothing to ensure those he thought ‘unworthy’ wouldn’t be able to study at Hogwarts. The other founders weren’t like that. They didn’t believe in dividing people up like that.”

“Oh, yeah?” Draco challenged, “Your beloved Godric had a sword that to this very day only appears to ‘true Gryffindors.’ What does that even mean? Someone who is brave? By whose standards? Not all Gryffindors are stereotypically ‘brave’ Harry, and you will find courageous people in every House.”

“I know that, Mal—Draco.”

“Not to mention that I wouldn’t be a ‘Slytherin’ nor you two ‘Gryffindors’ if Gryffindor himself hadn’t left _his_ hat in charge of separating future students into Houses, _ensuring_ that we would stay divided for the next thousand years—”

“Okay!” Harry said, loudly, cutting Draco off. “I admit that sounds...kinda fucked up...when you put it that way.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow, “How else would you want me to put it? Am I wrong?”

Harry glared at him and Draco smirked, obviously pleased with himself. Harry’s heart leapt and he felt himself blush, remembering how he’d jerked himself off to that very image the night before.

Harry didn’t have a chance to respond, for in that moment Hermione entered the Room… followed by two other wixen.

Harry, Ron, and Draco looked quizzically at Seventh-Year Luna Lovegood and fellow Eighth-Year Susan Bones.

“Hello, Harry, Ron, Draco,” Luna said dreamily.

Susan waved, obviously feeling a bit awkward.

“Hi,” the three of them replied in unison.

“I ran into Luna and Susan in the library,” Hermione explained.

“I see,” Harry said, his brow furrowing as the three newcomers sat down at the table.

“Luna and I were in the same section,” Susan explained, her voice a little shaky, “looking up some information on Helga Hufflepuff.”

Draco frowned and Susan flushed and glanced quickly between him and Harry, not keeping eye contact for more than a couple of seconds.

“Intriguing,” Draco said, his tone light. “Why were you looking for information on Hufflepuff?”

Draco’s tone seemed extra gentle to Harry, an observation which amused him. Had Draco noticed Susan’s awkwardness and tried to make her feel more comfortable?

Either way, Susan took a deep breath and when she spoke again, she seemed to be calmer. “I’m not sure if you know this, but Helga Hufflepuff was exceptionally talented in food-related charms and created many of the recipes that are still used to this day at Hogwarts feasts. She also set up the House Elf contingent here, giving them a safe—well, a _safer_ place to work where they would not be mistreated or abused.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I must admit, I did not know that.” He sounded extremely interested in this information and had eagerly leaned forward as Susan had spoken. Harry found Draco’s inquisitiveness… sexy as hell.

The thought startled him, and he felt his cheeks instantly burn with embarrassment, and was beyond grateful that no one seemed to notice, intent as they were on Susan.

“I have to ask though,” Draco said, interlacing his fingers and resting them on the table. “Why is this information… relevant? Don’t get me wrong, I love learning about historical figures simply for the sake of learning—”

“Why, Draco, how Ravenclaw of you,” Luna said, grinning at him.

Draco returned the smile. “Why, thank you, Luna.”

Ron made a choking sound and everyone turned to look at him.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “I just…never thought I’d hear Mal—Draco thanking someone for comparing him to any founder other than Slytherin.”

Draco nodded. “I know I give off that impression. But… despite what I’ve always been taught to believe, I think there are traits in all houses we should all wish to emulate in different situations. Anyways—” He turned back to Susan. “As much as I value learning more about Hogwarts founders, I assume there is a reason you are mentioning this to us. And a reason you were looking for more information about her today, just as Hermione was aiming to check out that biography about Rowena Ravenclaw.”

Susan nodded, and Harry noticed she looked almost completely relaxed now, certain she could trust all of them. “There is, yes. Perhaps—have any of you noticed anything strange at mealtimes lately?”

Harry shook his head and Draco tilted his own, seemingly unsure what to make of the question.

“What exactly do you mean by ‘strange?’” Ron asked.

“Well, for instance, mealtimes have been pushed later and later since the beginning of term. And when a plate is empty, it takes ages to refill, if it does at all.”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Oh, Merlin. I _had_ noticed that. But I honestly thought it was some sort of school-wide campaign to increase awareness about healthy meal portions or eating habits or something.” He paused for a moment, as if deliberating what to say next. “It’s certainly been helping me,” Ron admitted and then addressed the non-Gryffindors. “I’ve always had a bit of an… interesting relationship with food. Living with five older brothers I guess I must have—” he broke off and glanced at Hermione who gave him a reassuring smile. “I think that I developed this worry as a child that I wouldn’t get enough to eat… or something.”

Hermione reached across the table to squeeze Ron’s hand.

As Draco nodded at Ron, Harry noticed Draco’s eyes seemed a little reluctant to hold eye contact but kept steady enough to confirm with Ron that Draco had heard him and appreciated his candor. Susan and Luna each gave Ron a small smile. “Thank you, Ron,” Luna said, “for being so open and trusting us.”

Ron’s ears went red, but he smiled back and made a gesture that Harry interpreted to mean “You’re welcome, now please can we move on?”

“Well,” Harry said, turning back to Susan. “Do you think there’s something fishy going on in the kitchens or something?”

“I _did_ think,” Susan replied, “but now I _know._ ” She glanced at Hermione and Luna who nodded in agreement.

“After we ran into each other in the stacks,” Hermione explained, “I took Susan and Luna down to the kitchens.”

Luna added, “That giggling pear is just the sweetest thing I’ve seen in a Hogwarts portrait, I must admit.”

“Do you want to tell them what we discovered, Luna?” Hermione asked.

“Oh!” Luna said, eyes widening in surprise at the offer. “Sure, I will. The house elves were working incredibly hard, bustling about and preparing dinner. One house elf with two adorably mismatched socks and a tea cozy recognized Hermione and immediately burst into tears, the poor thing.”

Harry felt the blood rush out of his face and his heart drop into his stomach. Ron also looked extremely pale.

“It was Winky,” Hermione explained quickly and gave them both a sad smile. “I must admit I started crying as well. Those socks she was wearing? One was mustard yellow and one was violet. Your Christmas gifts to Dobby. And the tea cozy certainly looked like it was one I had knitted back in Fourth Year.”

Harry felt tears burn behind his eyes, threatening to fall. He clasped his hand over his mouth and turned away, attempting to hide his face from them all. Harry tried to even his breath and ride through the wave of grief.

“She—she’s really embraced Dobby’s teachings about freedom and equality.” Hermione sniffed. “She’s actually got an old S.P.E.W. badge—Merlin knows where she found it.”

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw handkerchiefs appear on the table. Hermione picked one up and dabbed her eyes before retrieving another and holding it out to Harry.

His cheeks red with embarrassment, Harry took the handkerchief and quickly dried his own eyes and blew his nose.

It took Harry a minute or so to pull himself together and then he folded the handkerchief and placed it in his robes. He sensed Draco looking at him and turned towards him.

Draco’s eyebrows were low and pulled close together, his lips drawn in tightly with the corners of his mouth drawn slightly downwards. When he noticed Harry looking at him, he neutralized his expression and said in a low voice, leaning towards him, “You alright, Harry?”

Harry nodded quickly. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Draco shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize for crying.”

Under the table, Draco placed his hand on Harry’s leg and every nerve in Harry’s body fixated on the sensation. He knew no one else could see the gesture. What was Draco doing? Harry forced himself to look at Draco, and the sympathy emitting from the other man warmed Harry from the inside out.

Then, Draco squeezed. A gentle, tender squeeze. Draco’s thumb caressed Harry’s thigh, and in that moment, Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He had to stop himself from looking down and exposing to the others what was transpiring right under their noses.

However, Harry and Draco’s intense eye contact was more than enough to cause some shifty movements and Ron let out an awkward cough.

“Mate?” Ron asked. “You… ready to continue?”

Harry blinked and, as casually as possible, readjusted his position to turn towards Ron, forcing Draco to remove his hand.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

Luna continued her story where she’d left off. “So, we’re watching them scramble about the kitchen and Susan asks them ‘Why are you in such a hurry? Dinner isn’t for another five hours.’”

“What did they say?” Draco asked.

“Winky told us that apparently the charms on the flatware are acting incredibly finicky. And the magical enchantment connecting the Great Hall tables and those in the kitchen is apparently weakening with every meal.”

“How is that possible?” Ron asked.

“It shouldn’t be,” Draco and Hermione said in unison. They both cracked a grin and made a gesture towards the other, inviting them to continue. The unintentionally synchronous movement caused a ripple of laughter across the table.

“Go ahead,” Draco said, and folded his hands in his lap, looking at her attentively.

“Thanks. Well, it really shouldn’t be possible for these enchantments to be breaking! In Chapter 7 of _Hogwarts: A History_ it’s explained that the magic holding the school and its daily goings-on together is tremendously powerful and permanent, inflexible even.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” Harry said. “What if there was an emergency and something _had_ to change?”

“Well, it’s pretty well-documented that the founders were all staunch traditionalists,” Draco explained. “I can imagine they would have retorted with an argument along the lines of ‘what’s tried and true will get us through.’”

“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?” Hermione shook her hair out of her face importantly and withdrew a book from her school bag: _Rowena Ravenclaw: The Most Brilliant Wi_ _x in the History of Great Britain._

“Looks like the author was a bit of a fangirl, doesn’t it?” Ron asked, chuckling. Harry was about to laugh at the adulatory title, but caught himself just as Hermione and Luna glared at Ron, who stopped mid-chuckle.

“Fan _person,_ actually,” Luna said, pointedly. “The author, Rowan Ashe, is non-binary.”

“Oh, really?” Draco asked. “May I take a look, Hermione?”

Hermione nodded and passed the book across the table.

“Interesting,” Draco said after a moment of perusing. “Apparently Rowan attended Hogwarts in the 1970s. Not many non-binary wixen from that generation have come out; they might be the only one. They were a Hufflepuff. Intriguing, I didn’t expect that…”

“Let me see!” Susan said, and Draco passed the book along.

“Hmm…” Susan was squinting at the author’s photo at the back of the book. Rowan was dressed smartly in dress robes and was posing with their hands on their hips. After a couple moments, Rowan put their hand on their chin in a pensive pose. Apparently, Rowan couldn’t take themselves seriously, and almost immediately burst out in silent laughter, shaking their head and waving their hand dismissively.

“I thought the name sounded familiar! I think my Aunt Amelia was friends with Rowan during school. I’ve saved as many photographs as I could from her house after...” Susan swallowed. “After… she died… You know, a couple years ago.”

Luna nodded and took Susan’s hand in hers. Harry couldn’t help but notice how soft Luna’s eyes were when Susan turned to her with a small smile of gratitude.

“Do you mind?” Hermione asked gently, pointing towards the book.

Susan shook her head and passed the book back to Hermione, who flipped to the index.

“There’s got to be information in here about the castle itself, and her role in making Hogwarts... well, Hogwarts—Aha! Here it is.” Hermione placed the book in the center of the table and they all bent their heads around to read along with her.

“'Ravenclaw is rumored to have been particularly skilled in the art of Divination. According to legend, Rowena dreamt about a warty hog leading her to a cliff by the Great Lake. It is upon that very spot that Hogwarts continues to stand today, educating students from across Great Britain and Ireland.

“'Although all founders were heavily involved in the architectural planning of the castle and its grounds, Ravenclaw was the brilliant mastermind behind the magical architecture. It is common knowledge that she crafted the ever-changing floor plan of Hogwarts. It is less well-known, however, that it is rumored she wished for the castle to remain ever in flux—occasionally restructuring itself to better fit the needs of the staff and students, adapting with the modern times. Given that it is highly well-documented that the rest of the Hogwarts founders believed in the power and strength of tradition, it can be assumed that the majority of Ravenclaw’s numerous architectural plans were dismissed as “too radical” or “unnecessarily problematic.”

“'It is true, that if Hogwarts were to start shifting around, it would cause confusion and concern. That being said, there is an argument to be made that though change is often confusing and concerning, Ravenclaw was leaps and bounds ahead of her time in realizing that change is often necessary if we are to advance as a society and improve upon our traditions and abilities.’”

The five of them sat in silence as they digested Rowan’s words. Finally, Harry said, “Rowan makes an excellent point.”

“They make several, Harry. You’re going to have to be more specific,” Draco teased, and though Harry rolled his eyes, he had to admit that Draco’s teasing was starting to stir a vastly different reaction inside him…

“Yes, _Draco_ , I was getting to that. They make an excellent point about the importance of change.”

The rest of them murmured in agreement.

“And maybe,” Harry continued, “the rest of the founders should have listened to Ravenclaw. Things would be so different. Probably for the better.”

“Agreed,” Susan said. “Coming to Hogwarts is like stepping back in time. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the aesthetic—but it is horribly old-fashioned and behind in so many ways.”

“It’s true!” Hermione said. “Why haven’t they tried to adapt instruction given the advancements in education in the past 1000 years? Especially considering there’s so much more technology now.”

“Well, you informed us yourself, Hermione,” Harry said. “Technology doesn’t work when there’s so much magic around.”

“You’re right, but honestly… I can’t believe that wixen aren’t researching that and developing technology-friendly enchantments yet!” Hermione said, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation.

“Tradition,” Draco said. “Especially amongst pureblood wixen. And especially due to all the witch hunts in history which forced us as all into hiding and made a Statute of Secrecy essential to our very survival.”

“Augh!” Ron groaned. “My brain can’t take any more. One Hermione was enough, now I’ve also got Draco to contend with.”

Harry laughed. “It’s good for you, Ron. Using your brain, I mean.” Under the table, he felt a light kick to his shin and when he looked at Ron he was grinning.

“I know, but…” Ron checked his watch. “We have Double Potions in 15 minutes.”

“Oh, shoot!” Hermione said and made to grab the book.

“Actually, Hermione—” Harry said, “Can I keep it for a little while?”

“Oh! Well… I suppose that’s no problem.” Instead of grabbing the book, Hermione pushed it closer to Harry so it was easier for him to take.

Harry thanked her and placed the biography in his own bag.

Draco frowned. “I hope you’re not planning on skipping Potions to read that book. Your… Polyjuice potion was looking a little weak and could really use some attention—”

“Oh, shove off, Draco. My Polyjuice potion is looking just fine. Believe it or not, that’s the one potion I’m actually confident in my ability to brew.”

“Oh, really?” Draco said as the five of them stood up, pushed their chairs in and made their way to the door. “Now I’m intrigued. Why is that, Harry?”

Harry grinned, relishing the fact that he held information Draco desired. “I’ll be going to Potions, Draco, no need to worry. I know you can’t stand to be apart from me that long.”

Draco’s jaw dropped and Harry’s cheeks burned at the boldness of his own words.

Harry’s heart hammered in his chest, but it took only a few seconds for Draco to pull himself together again and adjust his expression into his signature smirk. “Oh, _dear_ Harry, I’m sure I could manage. But could you?”

That did it. Blood rushed to Harry’s cock which twitched with arousal. His cheeks blazing, Harry thought, _Well, fuck._ He’d definitely lost that round.

As their group approached the Grand Staircase where the Eighth Years would separate from Luna, the Ravenclaw said goodbye to all of them. Then, she reached a hand out to Susan’s cheek and gave her a soft peck on the lips.

“So… you and Luna?” Ron asked Susan as the five of them took the stairs two at a time to arrive at Slughorn’s lesson by the bell.

“Yes?” Susan asked, and Harry noticed she was biting her lip.

“How long have you been…well, I’m just assuming you’re… you know… something.” Ron’s ears turned red. “Sorry if that was insensitive. I’m not meaning to _assume_ I just, _noticed_ things were different between you two.”

Harry wished he could stop Ron from digging this hole, but once his best mate got going it was nearly impossible to stop him without ending up in the hole with him.

“I’m terrible at this,” Ron finally said, “Hermione always says I have the emotional range of a teaspoon. I’ll just shut up now.”

“Ron! It’s fine. You’re fine,” Susan reassured him. “To answer your question, Luna and I have been seeing each other since the beginning of term. We’re in the Divination Club together.”

“Ah! I see. Cool.”

Hermione snorted.

“Shut up!” Ron murmured, crossing his arms. “I’m trying here.”

“I know, love, I know.”


	5. Chapter Five

In the quiet evening hours, Harry crept towards the common room door.

“Where are you going?”

Harry stopped in his tracks, his hand freezing in mid-air, inches from the handle. _Shit_. He should have put on the Invisibility Cloak already.

Harry heard Draco take a few steps closer to him and slowly lowered his hand, turning towards the other man.

“Er—I suppose I’m… going sleuthing?” His words came out sounding like a question.

“Not without me, you’re not.”

Harry’s eyes widened and Draco smirked. “You’re serious?”

“Of course, Harry. We’re partners. Aren’t we, detective?”

Harry bit the insides of his cheek, trying not to smile. And of course, Harry couldn’t help feeling excited by the thought of spending time alone with Draco. It would be close quarters under the Invisibility Cloak.

“I suppose we are. Come on, then. You ready?”

“Born ready.” Suddenly, Draco tugged the Invisibility Cloak clean out from under Harry’s arm.

“Hey!”

“Gotta stay on your guard, Harry.” Draco examined the cloak. “This really is a true masterpiece.”

“I know.”

“It must be very old.”

“It is. I got it from my dad.”

“Nah, older than that. And yet—” Draco swooped the Cloak over his shoulders and all of him but his head disappeared. “The Enchantment is flawless to this day. Hasn’t worn out in the slightest.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, unsure what Draco was getting at. “Yes, it is an excellent Invisibility Cloak,” Harry said slowly. “Can we go now?”

“Naturally. You joining me under here?”

Harry felt his heart leap at the suggestion. _Fucking hell_. Draco couldn’t possibly know what he was doing to Harry… could he?

Not trusting himself to speak, Harry readjusted the strap on his school bag (he’d brought the Ravenclaw biography with him, just in case) and closed the distance between them, reaching out to where he guessed Draco’s body to be and felt the velvety cloak and something solid beneath it.

“Woah! Harry, no need to be handsy…” Draco bit his lip.

Harry’s face blanched, his eyes widening in horror.

Draco burst out laughing and hastily spluttered, “I’m sor—I’m sorry, Harry. I was just—” a fit of giggles overtook Draco and Harry glared at him. “I was—I was just kidding! You—you touched my stomach, I swear.”

At hearing that, Harry scoffed and punched the same spot. Not too hard, but hard enough for Draco to stop laughing and scowl at him.

“You deserve it,” Harry said, utterly unapologetic.

Draco harrumphed, but lifted up the Invisibility Cloak to allow Harry to join him.

As Harry stepped under the cloak, his side pressing firmly to Draco’s, he tried, unsuccessfully to stop shaking.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

“You could go grab another jumper if—”

“I’m fine, _partner_ ,” Harry said and opened the door.

Harry led them towards the Grand Staircase, all the while trying to ignore how being so close to the other man caused Draco’s scent to overwhelm his senses. Fuck, Harry was really falling for Draco. Hard. Feet first. And gathering speed. He couldn’t help but wonder if it really was so sudden...or if it was over seven years in the making.

“So, where are we going?” Draco whispered, pulling Harry away from his thoughts.

“Staircase,” Harry whispered back.

“How come?”

“Wanted to check out what’s up with that portrait that got you all jumpy and running to the dungeons the other night.”

Draco suddenly halted, and Harry almost lost his balance as he tried to continue walking forward without him. A hand reached out and steadied him, and Harry readjusted the Cloak.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“I already told you. It wasn’t moving.” Draco’s voice had risen slightly and Harry shushed him before pulling them both into the Trophy Room and shutting the door quietly behind them.

Harry pulled the cloak off of them and threw it over his shoulder. 

“Draco.”

“Yes?”

“Why would a frozen portrait cause you to bolt to the Dungeons?”

Draco was silent.

“You’re acting mighty suspicious right now, you know that?” Harry said, his voice sharp with annoyance.

“I know!” Draco let out a frustrated groan. “Okay. The truth is, it had nothing to do with the portrait.”

“Then why would you have any reason to go to the dungeons?”

“Because I—” Draco cut himself off.

Harry sighed loudly and pulled his school bag off before plopping himself down on the stone floor, back to the wall. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me—”

“Sit your arse down!”

Draco sat.

“Now. We’re partners. Aren’t we?”

Draco mumbled something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“I said ‘yes!’ for fuck’s sake, Potter—”

“Harry.”

“I’m Draco. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Harry bit his cheek to keep from laughing, but he couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged on his lips, betraying his amusement. “Come on, Draco. Please. Tell me what’s going on.”

Draco sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “I will. It’s just… I’m worried you won’t believe me.”

That shocked Harry. “Why wouldn’t I believe you? After all this?”

“Because… it sounds ridiculous, even to me.”

“Draco, you’re starting to scare me a little now.” Without thinking, Harry placed a hand on Draco’s knee. When he realized what he’d done, Harry surprised himself by letting his hand be. “Please,” he said again. “Tell me. Why did you have the sudden need to rush to the dungeons?”

Draco looked at Harry’s hand, and then met his eyes. “I… felt something. Inside. Something tugging at my very core. My magical core.”

Harry said nothing, trying to understand the meaning behind Draco’s words.

When Harry didn’t immediately challenge him, Draco seemed to relax a little, and continued. “It felt like my magic had connected with Hogwarts’ magic or something. So, I’m standing there, and I just feel this inexplicable tug...or force. Like Hogwarts is trying to communicate something to me. I reach out and touch the stone wall.” Draco paused and pressed his palm to the stone floor beneath him. He was biting his lip, brow furrowed in concentration.

“In that instant, I knew where Hogwarts wanted me to go. I didn't know why. But that force was simply so overwhelming I knew I had to get there quickly...” Draco trailed off.

Harry wasn’t sure what to make of this new information. This experience sounded unbelievable, but so did most things that had happened to Harry in his own life. Unable to figure out an appropriate response to Draco’s confession, Harry found himself stroking Draco’s knee with his thumb. He hoped the gesture, regardless of his inability to find words, was reassuring to Draco. Harry wasn’t going anywhere. He didn’t judge him, and, above everything, he trusted Draco.

Draco brought his eyes to rest on Harry, then, cautiously brought his hand to rest upon Harry’s.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat but resolved to finally pluck up some of that Gryffindor courage he was famous for and turned his hand slowly around so their palms were touching. Then, one by one, Harry and Draco interlaced their fingers together.

Harry’s heart pounded fast and hard against his chest; he wouldn’t have been surprised if the other man could hear it. Harry looked intently at Draco, losing himself in those beautiful grey kaleidoscope eyes and catching his own reflection. Harry squeezed Draco’s hand. Draco squeezed back.

And then Harry found his eyes glancing down towards Draco’s lips and back again. When Draco did the same, Harry closed the distance between them and kissed him.

Harry could feel nothing else, could _think_ of nothing else other than Draco’s lips pressing against his. Slowly, they began to find a rhythm and Harry brought his free hand, shaking slightly, to rest on Draco’s cheek.

Draco let out a needy moan and let go of Harry’s hand to run both his hands through Harry’s hair. Without warning, Draco began to tug at Harry’s hair and move closer, causing Harry to moan in surprise.

Before Harry knew it, Draco was straddling him, kissing him with great fervor, occasionally sucking or nipping at Harry’s lips.

 _Fuck, he really knows what he’s doing..._ Harry thought, and felt his trousers constrict. He tried to take some control of the kiss, bringing both of his hands to twist in Draco’s hair, making the other man gasp.

“Okay?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yes,” Draco replied, his voice dripping with lust and desire. Harry felt Draco rub against him and moaned loudly.

“Shh...” Draco chastised.

“Mmm… can’t help it,” Harry said. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

“I’ve got a pretty good idea, yes.” Draco bucked his hips again, rubbing his clothed erection against Harry’s.

“Ah, fuck...”

“Feel good?”

“So good.”

“Want to... take this somewhere else?”

Harry shouldn’t have been surprised by the question, given their current position, but he stilled.

Feeling this, Draco stopped moving and withdrew a few inches. “Everything okay?”

“Er...yes,” Harry lied, “Yes, everything’s fine.”

Draco frowned.

“Okay,” Harry admitted, his cheeks flushing. “It’s just that... I haven’t... you know.”

Draco’s frown morphed into a sly smile.

“Oh, no?” Draco pressed his lips to Harry’s neck and kissed him gently.

Harry whimpered. “No... but I... I do want to.”

“With me?” Draco whispered in his ear and Harry felt himself breakout in goosebumps.

“Yes,” Harry breathed.

“I want to fuck you, Harry.”

Harry moaned at the words and his hips bucked, trying to get closer to Draco.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Draco asked, staying just out of reach of Harry’s frantic hips.

Harry’s felt a hot flush spring up around his chest and neck. “Yes.” Harry tried again to get closer, but to no avail. He whimpered again.

“Yes, what, Harry?” Draco asked.

_Fuck, the way Draco was toying with him..._

Looking at Draco, Harry noticed the other man's cheeks were also flushed. A lock of Draco’s blond hair had fallen in front of his eyes which were heavily dilated.

“Draco, I want you to fuck me. Please.”

Draco gave a low growl of approval and pressed his lips to Harry’s neck again, sucking and nibbling. Harry knew he would have a pretty obvious mark there later, but what Draco was doing felt so good he couldn’t bring himself to care about the potential consequences.

Draco pulled away to inspect his work. Satisfied, he brought his lips down one last time to kiss the mark. Harry shivered.

“So... I’m assuming you don’t want me to fuck you here,” Draco said. “Any suggestions?”

Harry nodded eagerly, his nerves still gnawing at him, but not in a way that made him want to change his mind.

He extricated himself from Draco and stood up, shakily. He threw the Invisibility Cloak over the two of them and led Draco out of the Trophy Room and upstairs to the Seventh Floor.


	6. Chapter Six

They had barely shut the door to the Room of Requirement when Draco shoved him playfully against it, leaning close to Harry’s ear.

“I want you,” Draco whispered.

“Take me, then,” Harry said and crashed his lips to Draco’s. As they snogged, Draco slid a leg between Harry’s.

“Mmm,” Harry moaned, rubbing against Draco’s thigh. Draco chuckled.

“Very eager, are we?”

“Shut up, Draco.” Harry tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair, forcing Draco’s lips back on his. He was determined to enjoy every inch of Draco, and it seemed Draco had the same idea about Harry.

Before Harry had time to register that Draco’s thigh was leaving, he felt a warm hand press against the tent in his trousers.

“I want to touch you,” Draco said. “All of you.”

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. “Then do it.”

“My dear Harry… I thought you’d never ask.”

Draco took Harry’s hand and they walked toward the four-poster bed the Room had conjured for them. 

Ever so slowly, one article of clothing at a time, the two of them undressed the other. As soon as they were both completely bare, Draco stepped close enough that their legs and already half-hard cocks grazed each other. With his fingertips, he traced Harry’s collar bone, his neck, his chest. Harry brought his own hand to the small of Draco’s back and began to trace up his spine before venturing back down. Harry had never felt this intimacy with anyone before, and he felt himself melt into Draco as they caressed each other, occasionally stealing kisses.

“I can hardly believe this is happening,” Draco confessed.

Harry leaned his forehead against Draco’s. “I can’t either…”

“You’re good?” Draco asked, giving Harry’s shoulder a tender squeeze.

“I’m brilliant,” Harry replied. “I… I’m so happy right now.”

“Me, too.” Draco’s hand wandered down Harry’s stomach and slid between them so as to have better access to Harry’s cock.

When Draco made contact, Harry moaned. “Please… more.”

“Well, when you ask so nicely…” Draco began to stroke Harry’s cock in a steady rhythm.

“Mmm…just like that…Fuck, Draco. That’s good.”

“I’m glad,” Draco said, and flicked his thumb over the head of Harry’s cock, wiping away some precum. Then, Draco put his thumb to his lips and licked it, eyes locked on Harry. The sight made Harry’s cock twitch.

“Oh, that’s good…” Draco said and kissed Harry, who tasted the lingering precum on Draco’s tongue.

“Will you…” Harry chewed his bottom lip.

“Will I…?” Draco quirked an eyebrow.

“Please… will you… suck me?”

Draco smirked, but nodded once and lowered himself to his knees.

Suddenly, Harry’s cock was surrounded by the hot wetness of Draco’s mouth—and it was the most intense pleasure Harry had ever felt. He felt his legs start to give out from under him, and tangled his fingers in Draco’s hair once again to steady himself.

Harry let out little moans as he felt Draco’s tongue swirl around his shaft. Then Draco took him deeper and Harry gasped. “Fffuck, Draco…”

Draco took the expletive as an invitation to quicken his pace, which caused Harry to cry out. “Yes!”

When Draco reached a hand up to cup Harry’s balls, Harry gasped and said, “Merlin, Draco…” His legs were shaking fiercely now and he knew he was closer to coming than he’d like. I don’t know how much longer I can…”

“Don’t come yet, Harry,” Draco warned. “Or don’t you want me inside of you?”

 _Oh, fuck, yes!_ Harry screamed inwardly. He couldn’t think of anything else he wanted _more._ He nodded fiercely. “Y-yes! Please.”

Harry felt his cock slip out of Draco’s mouth and he whimpered at the loss of sensation. Draco laughed. “You make the sexiest noises when you can’t get enough of me.”

Harry flushed, but motioned towards the bed and the two of them clambered onto it. They lay down facing each other, their heads lying on the plump pillows. “Draco,” Harry said, licking his lips. “I have to tell you…” His heart was pounding in his chest. Was he really considering this?

Draco pushed his fingers through Harry’s hair and leaned in the last couple inches to kiss his forehead. “What is it, Harry?”

“It’s…well… No one’s ever made me feel like this.”

“You did mention you were a virgin, Harry.”

“That’s not what I meant! I don’t just mean sexually. I—I can’t get you out of my head. When I think about you, it’s like my entire head is spinning and…I just want to be close to you.”

Draco was quiet for a second in which Harry held his breath. Finally, Draco said, “Harry, I feel the same way.”

Harry exhaled in relief, his face breaking out into a grin. “Really?”

Draco smiled back. “Yes. You dork. Of course, I do. Actually, I’ve…” Draco trailed off.

Harry gave Draco the time to consider his next words.

“I’ve felt this way for a really long time.”

“How long?” Harry asked, genuinely intrigued by this new information.

Draco bit his lip. “Well, if I’m being honest… years.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

“I assure you, Harry, I am not.”

Harry shook his head in disbelief. “But… how could you?”

“It’s not something one can help, you know. Falling for someone.” Draco’s pale cheeks turned slightly pink and he lowered his gaze.

Harry put his hand to Draco’s chin and lifted it.

“You’ve _fallen for me_?”

Draco nodded. “Long ago. I just…never thought it could ever work. What with, well, everything.”

Harry’s heart was hammering, and his hand that held Draco’s chin was trembling.

“I want to be closer to you,” Draco whispered, wrapping his legs around Harry.

“I want you inside me,” Harry whispered back, his voice shook a little, but he was certain in his choice.

Draco grinned eagerly and retrieved lube from the bedside table, thoughtfully placed there by the Room. Harry watched Draco squeeze some lube onto his fingers, and then Draco brought his hand to Harry’s backside. Harry felt a slick finger tease his opening and shuddered.

“You just need to relax a little,” Draco said.

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to release any tension. As he did so, Draco pressed one finger inside him, and Harry gasped at the sensation. He’d touched himself there before but hadn’t yet trusted himself to go much further.

Draco inched in slowly enough to get Harry used to the intrusion, at the same time his other hand started to caress Harry’s cock.

“Mmm... that’s good, Draco.”

“Good,” Draco purred in his ear and slowly released his finger only to push it in again.

Harry moaned as Draco continued, keeping a slow and steady rhythm. Then, as Harry got used to his finger, Draco pressed it down, then he pressed up, gently massaging Harry in all directions. Soon, Harry found himself moving with Draco, trying to increase the sensations he felt.

“Do you want more?” Draco asked. Harry nodded and curled his head onto Draco’s chest.

“You’re doing so well…” Draco said as he slowly released his finger to apply more lube. He pressed two fingers to Harry’s entrance, and Harry exhaled, relaxing into Draco’s fingertips.

Harry sucked air through his teeth and felt mixed pleasure and discomfort as Draco pressed inside him.

Draco stilled, allowing Harry to get used to the fuller feeling. Harry appreciated Draco’s patience as well as how the other man continued to stroke his cock—a familiar pleasure. After a moment, Harry was ready for more. “You can keep going,” Harry said. “I’m good now.” Draco slid his two fingers further in, then almost out, then inside again. 

“Fuck, Draco…. You really know what you’re doing.”

Draco chuckled and curled his fingertips inside Harry, who moaned again and leaned into the fingers, encouraging Draco to go deeper. “It feels… so different,” Harry admitted. “But amazing.” He pressed his lips to Draco’s neck.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Draco said and continued to finger Harry, who was continuously letting out moans of pleasure—sometimes low and guttural, and at other times high-pitched and needy.

Draco kissed Harry’s neck, nibbling and sucking occasionally, as he made his way up towards Harry’s ear. Finally, he whispered,“You think you’re ready for my cock, Harry?”

Harry’s heart pounded hard in his chest and his stomach leaped.

“Mmm, yes, please…” Harry said.

“Please, what?” Draco asked, and Harry, though his eyes were closed, could hear the grin in the other man’s words.

As much as he wanted to tell Draco to shut up and stop teasing… Harry had to admit it turned him on.

“Fffuck, Draco—please, will you fuck me? I want your cock inside me, filling me up. I need it… _now_. Please?”

Draco moaned this time and gave Harry’s cock a squeeze. “I love hearing you beg for me.”

Harry was intrigued to hear Draco was just as aroused as he was simply from giving Harry pleasure and knowing Harry wanted him. He decided to beg some more, to see how much he could drive the other man wild. “Pleeeeease, Draco. Fuck, I need you to fill me with your thick cock. Pleeeassse fuck me, Draco!”

Draco’s eyes darkened with lust, locking on Harry’s. He slipped his fingers out of Harry, then summoned a condom.

“Put it on me,” Draco ordered, and Harry quickly obeyed.

“Er… how should we do this?” Harry asked, unsure what the best position might be.

“Here—” Draco grabbed one of the pillows and repositioned it. “Set yourself on this, then lie back, facing me.”

Harry did as he was told.

Draco positioned himself between Harry’s legs. “If you keep your knees pressed against my sides, you can help control how deep I go.”

Harry nodded to show his understanding.

“Can you give me a verbal yes, so I know you’re ready?” Draco pressed a hand to Harry’s cheek.

“Y-yes,” Harry said. “Yes.”

Draco smiled and reached for the lube again, slathering his cock with a generous amount. He leaned down to brush his lips against Harry’s, while at the same time using his hand to align the head of his cock with Harry’s entrance.

As Harry felt Draco’s cock slide inside him, he tried to relax into it as he had Draco’s fingers. But this fullness was a much more uncomfortable sensation than the fingers and he had to squeeze his knees tight to Draco to stop him going further.

“Everything okay?” Draco asked.

“Just… just hold for a second. Please? I’m sorry...”

“No need to apologize,” Draco said and kissed Harry’s forehead. “Take all the time you need.”

Harry nodded and breathed deeply multiple times getting used to the feeling of Draco’s cock inside of him. Draco made it easier for him to relax by covering his face, neck, and chest with soft kisses.

Finally, Harry said, “I—I’m ready now. Could you just… go really slowly?” Harry shut his eyes.

“Of course, I can.” Draco pressed deeper into Harry, millimeter by millimeter.

Sensations of pleasure began to overtake the discomfort, and then Draco stopped.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, his eyes still closed, “You can keep going.”

“Harry… I’m all the way inside. Open your eyes.”

Harry did so, and the sight of Draco’s cock pressed deep inside him, Harry’s own cock hard against his stomach, was so erotic he let out a deep moan of pleasure. “This looks so hot,” he confessed.

“Damn right, it does,” Draco said, smirking. “I’m going to start moving now,” he warned.

Harry nodded then said, “Yes. Please do.” He wrapped his arms around Draco’s back for more support.

As Draco began to slowly thrust, Harry moaned louder than before, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Fuck, Draco… feels so good.”

“Good,” Draco said, reaching a hand for Harry’s cock and stroking it.

“Oh my God, that’s… that’s perfect,” Harry shivered and then gasped loudly as Draco hit a new spot inside him.

Draco stopped his movements. “Was that a good gasp or a bad gasp?”

Harry moaned. “Really good… do that again.”

Draco did, pressing that same spot with intention.

“Fuuuuuck, Draco that feels so fucking good.”

“Seems we found your prostate, then.” Draco smirked and pushed against it again.

Harry’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body swimming with pleasure.

“Can you… go faster? Please?”

Draco sped up, stroking Harry’s cock in time with his thrusts, each time hitting Harry’s prostate, causing Harry to gradually fall apart at the seams.

“Draco, I’m going to… fuck, I’m so close.”

“I’ll bet you are… You’re fucking gorgeous when you come.”

Harry moaned in response, his orgasm building closer and closer with every thrust.

“I’m gonna — Draco, I’m gonna co—”

“Fuck… yes. Come for me, Harry.”

“Dracoooooo!” Harry screamed as the waves of pleasure peaked and he came harder than he ever had before. He continued to moan, shiver, and shake as Draco pumped into him reaching his own climax.

Harry clutched Draco close to him as the other man’s grunts and moans filled the Room and he came inside Harry.

When Draco was finished, he collapsed on Harry’s chest. Their hearts pounded against each other, and they both gasped for breath, trying to recover from the intensity of their orgasms.

When Draco made to pull out, Harry surprised them both by squeezing Draco closer. “No, don’t!”

Draco looked at him questioningly.

“I just… don’t want you out of me. Just yet.”

Draco’s confused expression turned amused and he kissed Harry’s sweaty forehead before resting his head on Harry’s chest. 

After a few moments, as their heartbeats started to return to normal, Harry said, “Fuck. Draco… that was…” He trailed off, unable to come up with a suitable word.

“It was fucking brilliant,” Draco said, kissing Harry in the center of his chest, then meeting his eyes.

“Yeah… it was.” Harry puckered his lips, too weak to lift his head, and Draco smiled, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. Draco broke the kiss and placed his hand at the base of his cock.

“You ready?”

“I suppose.”

Draco chuckled and pulled out of Harry slowly and carefully, his hand holding the condom firmly in place.

Harry whimpered at the empty sensation, suddenly feeling bereft.

“I’ll be right there,” Draco reassured him. He slid off the condom, tying it in a knot and placing it in the bin.

Harry weakly reached his arms out for Draco, who quickly climbed into them. Harry buried his head in Draco’s chest, clutching the other man tightly to him.

“You okay?” Draco smoothed Harry’s hair.

“I think so,” Harry said. “Just… feelings.”

“I get that,” Draco kissed the top of Harry’s head.

In that moment, Harry made a decision.

“I love you,” Harry murmured into Draco’s chest. He held his breath. There was no going back now. How would Draco react? It was fast… he could admit that. But if he was being honest with himself, he realized now his previous obsessions with Draco weren’t strictly platonic. Seconds ticked by as he waited for Draco’s response.

Then, finally, Draco readjusted their bodies to look him directly in the eyes. “I love you, too.”


	7. Chapter Seven

Twenty minutes later, they were still cuddling in the bed together. Harry’s eyes drifted dazedly around the Room and landed on the bin next to them.

“So, I’ve got a question,” Harry said.

“Hmm?” Draco asked.

“Where’s the trash we put in that bin going to go?”

Draco frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I guess I never asked before… but where does trash go when wixen throw it in a bin?”

“Is this a serious question,” Draco asked, grinning, “or are you pulling my wand?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I was raised by muggles, Draco. And I highly doubt there’s a trash collector coming to Hogwarts to dispose of our used condom in a landfill.”

“You know, if you’d actually read all of _Hogwarts: A History_ , you would know this information?”

“Yes, _Hermione_.”

In that moment, the Room conjured a book which appeared in between the two men, resting on one of the pillows.

Draco laughed and shoved the book playfully at Harry who groaned. “This Room is ridiculous…”

“It’s amazing.”

“Yes,” Harry said, flipping through to the chapter on upkeep. “That, too. Alright. Here it is: ‘Waste at Hogwarts is most often collected in bins by the students and staff members and later Vanished by the team of House Elves during their clandestine nightly cleanings. The staff and older students who have mastered the Vanishing Spell ( _Evanesco)_ may also occasionally elect to vanish their own rubbish.’ I see.”

Draco bit his lip, as if trying to hold back a smile. “Go on,” he encouraged. “Keep reading.”

“'The Vanishing Spell was also used until the 18th Century as a means of—’ Now, what the fuck? This can’t be right…”

Draco had given up his efforts to conceal his laughter.

Harry’s face contorted in disgust. “'The Vanishing Spell was also used until the 18th Century as a means of disposing human waste. Before adopting Muggle plumbing methods, wixen simply relieved themselves where they stood and then vanished the evidence.’ That’s absolutely revolting.”

“It’s absurd, I know.” Draco laughed again and then groaned, “I’m so glad I was born in the 20th Century.”

“Hang on,” Harry said, squinting at the page again. “'Before adopting muggle plumbing methods.’ So wixen _have_ copied muggle technology before!”

“Yes. Rarely, though. Why would we want to use technology invented by people who chased us down, trying to burn us at the stake?”

“Apparently so you could stop shitting yourselves well into the 1700s…”

“Apparently. Installing plumbing seems to be the only renovation Hogwarts has had in the past 1000 years. It’s almost like a breath of fresh air that things are finally moving around a little bit, even if we’re not sure why.”

“You think it’s a good thing then that those Gryffinpuffs’ new common room has randomly appeared in the dungeons then?”

“I mean… in a way?”

“What way is that?”

“I’ve started to really hate the entire House System, if I’m being honest. Remember what I said before, about how I think we should all embrace the characteristics of the different Houses depending on the situation? It’s because we all have the ability to be courageous, loyal, wise, or cunning—but being pigeonholed as just one is doing us all a huge disservice.”

Harry took a deep breath. “It’s always been really important to me. You know, being a Gryffindor.”

Draco nodded. “That makes sense. Having a sense of identity is crucial. But… I see a lot more in you than just stereotypical Gryffindor bravery. And… well, that’s one reason I fell in love with you.”

Harry smiled at the word “love” falling freely from Draco’s lips again. “Makes sense. I mean, _I_ know you’re more than just a stubborn, ambitious little snake who will stop at nothing to get his way.”

But Draco wasn’t really listening. In fact, he seemed to be contemplating something, and finally he spoke again. “I guess, if you think about it, it’s kind of like Hogwarts is doing those First-Years a favor, messing with them like that. And honestly, I kind of enjoy the fact that the layout of Hogwarts is changing, and the portraits, too. After the Battle, I welcome the change, you know what I mean? Like...we can get away from all that and actually move on.”

“Yeah, I agree with you,” Harry said. “I kind of wish some of Ravenclaw’s ideas for adapting with the times had been approved by the other founders.”

“You brought the biography, right?” Draco asked. “I want to take a closer look.”

“Sure,” Harry said. “ _Accio_ Ravenclaw biography!” The book zipped out of Harry’s school bag, across the room, and into his outstretched hand.

Draco’s eyes widened, obviously impressed. “You can perform wandless magic?” 

Harry couldn’t help feeling a flush of pride. “Only some spells. I practiced a lot when Ron, Hermione, and I were on the run last year. _Accio_ is one spell I’ve had to practice a lot anyways.”

“Hmm. Well, either way, it’s incredibly hot,” Draco said as his hand began to sneak its way down Harry’s abdomen.

Harry groaned. “Don’t tempt me. We’re _supposed_ to be sleuthing, or have you forgotten?”

“Fucking you did clear my mind of everything else, I must admit,” Draco said, winking cheekily.

“Draco...” Harry warned.

“Oh, I’ll be good, Harry. And an even better detective.”

Before Harry could even register what was happening, the Ravenclaw biography was plucked out of his hands and Draco was eagerly flipping through it.

“How do you keep—”

“Expert Seeker reflexes, my dear Harry.”

Harry scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me, _dear Draco_ , given that you’ve never won a game against me in your life.”

“Those games were rigged.”

Harry rolled his eyes but scooched closer to Draco, straining his neck to get a peek at the book. Draco had turned to the same section Hermione had read aloud to them earlier that day, all about Ravenclaws architectural plans which were “too radical” or “unnecessarily problematic.”

“Anything about wixen shitting themselves in the stairwells?” Harry asked, returning to a more comfortable position, resting on the headboard.

Draco snorted. “Unfortunately, not.” Suddenly, Draco froze. “Hang on...”

“What?” Alarmed, Harry tried to pull the book closer toward him,

Draco loosened his grip on the book, allowing Harry to have a better reading angle.

Harry found the spot where Draco’s finger was pointing at and read aloud. “'Extensive research has revealed that Ravenclaw most likely had a private journal where she collected her rejected floor plans and crafted innovative architectural enchantments that would have allowed the castle to adapt and change with the modern times. Such a journal has never been found, however, and it has most likely been lost to history.’ Woah!”

“You can say that again,” Draco said. “I would love to have just a peek of that journal.”

“Can you imagine what amazing magic is hidden in those pages?” Harry asked. “I’ve discovered many of the founders’ objects before, but—”

“What are you talking about?” Draco asked.

“Oh, right, of course you wouldn’t know,” Harry said. He sighed loudly. _Was he really going to tell Draco?_ Draco was looking at him with an expression of such confusion, and Harry realized he was going to have to tell him sooner or later. He took a deep breath and said, “Okay, long story short: Voldemort split his soul to make Horcruxes. I don’t know if you know what those are, but to defeat him, Ron, Hermione, and I had to find and destroy them. Voldemort thought he’d get all fancy and use Ravenclaw’s Diadem and Hufflepuff’s golden cup—”

“Wait a minute, hold up!” Draco said. He’d thrown his head in his hands and was shaking it slowly, trying to digest the new information. Draco took a deep breath and exhaled, long and slow. Then he lifted his head again. “You’re telling me that Voldemort tried to cheat death by splitting his soul not once but _twice_ to make these... _Horcruxes?”_

“Well, er, actually…” Harry coughed. “He made seven.”

“Seven?!” Draco practically screeched.

“Well, one was unintentional—”

“How the hell do you unintentionally make a Horcrux?!” Draco interrupted, beside himself.

“When you try and murder a baby who was prophesized to one day defeat you.”

That silenced Draco. Finally, Draco said, “Harry. What are you trying to say?”

Harry took a deep breath. He hadn’t told anyone apart from Ron and Hermione this part of the story.

“When my mother sacrificed her life for me, Voldemort’s Killing Curse rebounded. In the process, Voldemort accidentally transferred some of his powers...and part of his soul... into me.”

Draco inhaled sharply. “You? A Horcrux?”

“I was. During the Battle of Hogwarts, Voldemort tried to kill me in the Forest, as you know. He ended up not killing me, but that part of his soul.”

“That’s... that’s…” Draco seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I know,” Harry sighed. “I’m sorry, can we not talk about that anymore right now? It’s a lot for me.”

Draco leaned in and brushed his lips to Harry’s. “Of course. I’m sorry I asked you to.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s good I told you. That I... talked about it a little bit.” Harry shivered and tried to snap himself back to the present. “Anyway, the reason I brought it up was simply because—obviously, I had to destroy those objects. I wish we could find this journal, too… but actually _use_ it this time. To help us understand Ravenclaw and Hogwarts more. I have a feeling it would really help us solve this myst—”

Before Harry could even finish his thought, he was startled by a loud grating sound.

“What’s that?” Draco asked, looking around the room in all directions.

“There!” Harry said. “By the door!”

The two of them watched in astonishment as the stones next to the door scraped against each other and rearranged themselves, much like the entrance to Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron. After a few seconds, the stones stopped moving. Harry quickly got up to investigate, Draco falling into step behind him.

As they approached the door, they saw that the stones had organized themselves into a small cubbyhole—inside of which was an old-looking book with a faded leather cover.

Draco gasped. “Harry… you don’t think that’s…?”

“Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” Harry said and reached his hand in to retrieve the book. As soon as he pulled it out, the stones began scraping against one another again until they were back in their original positions. The cubbyhole was nowhere to be seen. Harry gently opened the book to the first page and his jaw dropped. “It _is!_ Look— ‘Private Journal of R. Ravenclaw, Year 990!’”

“I don’t believe it,” Draco said.

“Well, I _did_ wish we could find it,” Harry said, tracing his fingers along the leather cover. “And the Room of Requirement has been used to hide important artifacts throughout history.”

“But to think it’s been here for over 1000 years! It’s in pristine condition, too… it must have been under one hell of a stasis charm in there,” Draco said.

“Well, Ravenclaw was the brightest wix of the age.”

“That she was.”

“Let’s take a look,” Harry said and as he did so the long oak table appeared in the middle of the room.

“Definitely. But first I’d like to get dressed…” Draco’s arms had broken out in gooseflesh since they’d left the warmth of the blankets.

Harry joined him in fishing through the loose articles of clothing they’d strewn across the floor. When they were fully clothed once again, the two sat at the table and Harry placed the journal on the cool wooden surface.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Born ready.” Draco was on the edge of his seat, his eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning—or Hermione when she’s gotten her hands on a particularly thick textbook.

Harry turned to the first page of full text and read aloud: “‘This journal belongs to Rowena Ravenclaw, one of four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Inside this journal I shall document the process of establishing the first great school for all magical folk living in Britannia, Caledonia, and Hibernia. It is my hope that one day this journal will be found and the true story behind this glorious Wizarding historical event can be revealed.’”

Draco exhaled loudly. “This is remarkable. We’re actually going to read the words of Ravenclaw herself and discover things about Hogwarts no one ever has.”

“I know,” Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Hermione would _kill_ to see this.” He frowned.

“What is it, Harry?”

“I feel a little torn. Like, do I deserve to read this? This can’t have been meant for _my_ eyes…”

“Of everyone in the world today, I’d say you are _most_ worthy.”

Harry blushed. “Nah…”

“Come on… why would the Room have revealed this to us then, huh? Here, let me read the next part.” Draco brought the book slightly closer and turned the page. It was an intricately detailed sketch of the Hogwarts Castle—at least, one section of it. Draco checked the next few pages, and sure enough, the next several pages were similar sketches of other sections of the castle: Gryffindor Tower, Slytherin Common Room, Kitchens, Dungeons, the East Wing, and so on. Some of the sketches were moving, the walls of the rooms disappearing and rearranging themselves.

“Did you see that?!” Harry asked, pointing at the Slytherin Common Room.

“No, what?” Draco asked squinting closer.

“Watch these two pages at the same time. Don’t blink, or you might miss it!”

On one page was Gryffindor Tower, and on the other was the Slytherin Common Room. Draco watched as the floorplans of the Slytherin Common Room faded out and reappeared completely differently. A quick glance to the opposite page showed that the Slytherin Common Room floor plan was now nearly identical to the Gryffindor Common Room. In the next second, the floorplan faded in and out again, lines in their original places.

“Woah!” Draco said, “This… this is it. This is exactly what’s happening now!”

“But _how?_ ” Harry asked. “These floor plans were rejected.”

Draco flipped past the floorplans of Hogwarts and saw Ravenclaw’s curly script again. He read aloud, “‘I am highly disappointed in my fellow founders, who are insistent that we restrict the flexibility of the floorplan of Hogwarts. I believe from the bottom of my heart that the walls and magic of Hogwarts should be malleable and adapt with the times. The world is ever-changing and, in my ideal vision, Hogwarts is too. Though I agree with the educational system we are setting up, I know that the needs and desires of young magical folk will not be the same 50 years, 100 years, and especially 1000 years from now. Unfortunately, the others do not deem this an important consideration as we finalize the plans for our school.’”

“Unfortunate indeed,” Harry said, and turned the page. “Here’s some notes about Hufflepuff’s ideas for implementing House Elves at Hogwarts. ‘Though I agree with Helga’s initiative to give House Elves a safe work environment at Hogwarts, she will not heed my concerns about a potential uprising in the future. My prophetic dreams about conflicts between witches and wizards and other magical beings have, to my great frustration, been dismissed. I am certain one day House Elves will no longer accept their subservient role in our society. I’ve discussed some potential enchantments with her for the kitchens and the Great Hall which would make it possible for students and staff to be fed without using the Elves, but, again, I have been overruled.’” 

“So ahead of her time,” Draco said. “I’ve never seen such progressive opinions in any wixen history book. I’m not surprised her ideas were rejected by the other founders.”

“I’m still stuck on those floor plans,” Harry said. “The Gryffindor Common room appearing in the dungeons… It’s exactly what’s happening now. _How?!_ When all the other founders dug their feet in and stopped Ravenclaw from implementing them? And why now, after Hogwarts has been around for 1000 years?”

“Let’s keep reading, I’m sure the answers are in here somewhere…” Draco flipped the pages carefully but quickly, obviously scanning the pages and not reading them in full.

“Flip towards the back,” Harry suggested.

Draco looked at him curiously.

“Go on,” Harry said, “I have a gut feeling about this.”

Draco quirked an eyebrow but did as Harry suggested. “Oh, _Merlin_ …”

“What does it say?” Harry said, reaching for the book. Draco allowed Harry to hold one end and read aloud, “‘I had another dream. I know it to be prophetic, just as I was certain my dream with the warthog would lead to us building Hogwarts on this very spot. I have had another glimpse into the future, this time hundreds of years from now. It’s difficult for me to reconcile. I am almost afraid to write this, as if doing so will ensure the prophecy comes true.

‘I see an absolutely devastating war raging across the land, and what’s worse, I can see that the final battle will be within the walls of this school. I see absolute destruction of our beloved Hogwarts.’”

“No,” Harry whispered in disbelief, feeling lightheaded. “She… she isn’t predicting what we just went through, is she?”

“It—it certainly seems that way,” Draco said, turning to meet Harry’s eyes, his face blanched. He did not continue reading, so Harry swallowed hard and continued for him:

“‘The war will rage between pureblood supremacists, encouraged by Salazar’s values and teachings, and the rest of the wizarding population. A dangerous man who calls himself a “lord” will collect followers and lead them in his mission to gain power.’”

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest and he found it difficult to breathe. “Fuck me.”

Draco had brought his head to the table, apparently unable to keep himself upright.

Harry took a shaky breath and kept reading: “‘Halfbloods, muggleborns and many other magical creatures will horrifically lose their lives. These Dark witches and wizards will be consumed with a hatred so deeply rooted there will be no convincing them to stop the violence.

‘I do not like to admit it, but I believe Helga, Salazar, Godric, and myself are responsible. By deciding to separate our students into different Houses, we think we are encouraging healthy competition which will allow young witches and wizards to grow and develop their magic to the best of their abilities. In reality, this rivalry will drive them apart and lead to animosity, willful ignorance, and hatred within the walls of Hogwarts and beyond. But the other three founders and I have already set the wheels in motion, and Godric and the others are determined to have his hat be imbued with our magic so that students will continue to be sorted into these Houses long after we are gone. I have tried to warn the others about my visions of the future, but they do not believe my dream to be prophetic, nor are they willing to waver on any of the agreements we’ve made thus far about the school.’”

Harry glanced up from the journal. Draco’s head was still on the table, his face buried in his arms. Harry reached out a hand to gently rub Draco’s back. As he did so, he continued:

“'That being said, I cannot allow Hogwarts to stand undefended. Knowing what I know, I must do everything in my power to ensure Hogwarts will be able to adapt and heal after the devastating events that will transpire here. Therefore, I will be enchanting the castle with the spells I have crafted in this journal, but they will remain dormant until Hogwarts itself determines it is the right time. Then, Hogwarts will activate these enchantments and begin the process of adapting to the needs of the current students, as I have always said it should be doing all along. My dream has shown me that unity between the Houses and perhaps a dismantling of the Sorting System all together will be the only way to heal the school and progress into a better future. 

‘As saddened as I am about this terrible future I have seen, I also have hope. Particularly because of the final bit of wisdom my dream shared with me. Shortly after the war, there will be two young wizards, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, whose love for Hogwarts and each other will—”

“Stop!” Draco said, lifting his head in alarm.

Harry jumped at Draco’s sudden outburst. He noticed Draco was trembling wildly and quickly reached out to hold his hands in his.

“She… she’s talking about… about us...” Draco was struggling to speak.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Harry tried to reassure him. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

Draco did. He squeezed Harry’s hands and the two locked eyes as Harry tried to guide them both into breathing deeply in unison.

“Why aren’t you more freaked out?” Draco asked, the words tumbling from his mouth and then gasping for breath again.

“I am very freaked out,” Harry said, “but I _have_ dealt with prophecies about me before…”

Draco nodded then exhaled sharply. “This is true. Okay. I... I want to hear the rest.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “We don’t have to—”

“I want to know.”

Harry looked deep into Draco’s eyes, trying to determine whether he trusted Draco was ready. Finally, he nodded and turned back to the journal.

“‘Shortly after the war, there will be two young wizards, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, whose love for Hogwarts and each other will push them to start a reformation of the school. With the help of these two extraordinary wizards, the divisions we have caused by creating the House System will finally be mended.’”

Harry had reached the end of the page, which was also the very end of the journal. Both he and Draco were silent, but the words Harry had read were still ringing loudly in their ears.

Finally, Harry closed the journal, an action which seemed to bring the two of them back to the present moment. Draco exhaled loudly, and when he spoke, his voice cracked. “I… I’m speechless.”

Harry couldn’t help grinning, “Well, there’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”

“You’re so… calm about this,” Draco said, sounding slightly accusatory.

Harry glanced away. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of another response. “Maybe I’m just really fucked up or something… but my whole life has been a prophecy so this just feels like an extension of that, I guess.”

Draco nodded. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m just… wigged out by this whole thing, to be honest. Of course, I’ve always known there are true Seers out there, but I’ve always put it to the back of my mind. It just all seems...so unnatural. When someone knows something they’re not ‘supposed’ to know. Like they’re breaking the laws of the universe of something.”

“I can understand how this aspect of the world is terrifying. And knowing your own destiny is a lot of fucking pressure.”

Draco groaned. “You can say that again. We’re supposed to lead this...this reformation of the school? Why us?”

Harry considered this. “Well, I don’t think we can answer ‘why.’ But...I think we’re already doing it.”

Draco’s eyebrows practically flew off his face, he raised them so quickly. “We are?”

“Well, you and I are kind of spearheading this whole investigation of Hogwarts, and in the process, we’ve brought in others from all the different Houses.”

Draco pursed his lips. “Hmm,” he said, not entirely convinced.

“Plus,” Harry continued, “you seem to have already thought a _lot_ about why the House system is harmful before we even started our little Hogwarts detective agency.”

“Well, anyone with half a brain cell should be able to see that--”

Harry frowned. “Draco, it has nothing to do with being ‘smart enough,’ and you know that. It has to do with who _you are_. What you’ve been through. The experiences you’ve had that brought you to the realization that the House system didn’t serve you, or me, or anyone. But particularly us.”

Draco nodded. “I suppose… even if I hadn’t heard this prophecy, I would still have wanted to push the idea of dismantling the House System.”

“Exactly my point!” Harry said.

“Well... what are we going to do now?” Draco asked.

Harry looked at his watch. “I suggest we go to bed, as it’s two in the morning.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You tosser. You know what I meant.”

“I did. I just like to tease you.” Harry grinned. “If I’m being honest… I think the best thing to do is tell Professor McGonagall.”

Draco looked like he was about to protest, then considered Harry’s point, and finally nodded in agreement. “That does sound like the best course of action. She’s the head of the school, probably our most powerful ally here, _and_ she would know how to work with the Board of Governors to actually implement some educational reform. Plus, she’s been working on this Hogwarts mystery ever since the start of term. We should _probably_ let her know we’ve solved it so she can stop worrying.”

“ _Probably_ ,” Harry repeated. “I must say, though… I hope she is ready and willing to accept the changes going on around here.”

“I think she’ll have to. From what we’ve read so far, it sure seems that anyone’s efforts to ‘fix’ what’s going on at Hogwarts will be no match for Ravenclaw’s enchantments. People are going to just have to accept that change is happening, as Hogwarts seems to know what’s best for it now. We have no choice but to submit to its will and let Hogwarts decide its own future. Sure, we could choose to fight it and hold on to this archaic system, but imagine how difficult that would be with Hogwarts switching around the common rooms, changing our badges, and refusing to send food up to the Great Hall.”

“Not only difficult, but nigh on impossible, I’d say,” Harry said. “But we should probably wait until tomorrow to talk to McGonagall. Like I mentioned, _now_ we should probably head back to the dormitory and sleeeeeep.” He drew out the last word for emphasis and Draco chuckled.

“Yes,” Draco said. “You’re right. Let’s go to bed.” 

Harry packed the journal and the biography securely in his school bag, threw the Invisibility Cloak over the two of them and made to leave the room. Before he could take a step, however, Draco took his hand and pulled Harry against him.

“Wha—?” Harry began, but then Draco’s lips were on his. The way Draco kissed him made Harry go lightheaded and weak in the knees. It seemed the other man was trying to convey as much love as possible as he kissed him underneath the Invisibility Cloak, and Harry’s heart skipped a beat. Surprising himself, he felt tears welling in his eyes and returned the kiss, matching Draco’s intensity.

After a few minutes, they separated.

Draco rested his forehead on Harry’s and they both caught their breaths. “Harry… I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I _thought_ we were supposed to be going to bed, and you kiss me like that?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. “B-b-but it was _you!_ ” he spluttered.

Draco began to shake with laughter and Harry promptly shut his mouth and narrowed his eyes at the git.

“You just make it so easy,” Draco said, trying to get his laughter under control.

Harry shook his head, trying to keep his annoyed expression, but his mouth betrayed him as it curved into a smile.


	8. Chapter Eight

The next day, Harry and Draco stayed back after Transfiguration to talk to Professor McGonagall.

“I haven’t got a lot of time between classes,” she said. “But please, take a seat.”

As they did so, she waved her wand and the classroom door shut and locked itself. “How can I help you Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy? I must say I’m surprised but pleased to see you getting on with each other.”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel exactly the same way, Professor,” Harry said.

Draco smiled at Harry then turned to Professor McGonagall. “I suppose we should start with a confession,” Draco said. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows as Draco continued. “Harry and I have been searching for clues and attempting to solve the mystery behind the strange things that have been happening at Hogwarts since the start of term.”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “I could have guessed. Mr. Potter, you’ve always had a knack for meddling.” Her eyes twinkled behind her spectacles, and Harry knew she wasn’t as upset as she seemed about his “meddling.” “And now,” she continued, “you’ve drawn Mr. Malfoy into it, have you?”

“Actually, Professor,” Harry said, “in the interest of full disclosure, I had been following Draco because I thought he was behind it all.”

Draco bit his lip. “I’m sure that’s the only reason,” he mumbled. Harry felt his face flush and elbowed him sharply. Draco was deviating from the carefully-curated plan they’d made together that morning.

“Anyway,” Harry rushed on, “turns out I was wrong. And the two of us decided to join forces, as it were, and attempt to solve the mystery together.”

“Hmm.” Professor McGonagall looked between Harry and Draco. “You do realize that as head of this school I have everything under control regarding this ‘mystery’ as you call it? I have an investigative team working around the clock responding to incidents and keeping Hogwarts in running order.”

“We don’t doubt that, Professor,” Draco said.

McGonagall continued as if Draco had not spoken. “And, as Eighth Years, your priorities should be preparing for your N.E.W.T.s and planning for your future."

“I assure you, Professor, we are quite aware,” Harry said quickly. “However… I don’t think we really have a choice in the matter.”

Professor McGonagall knitted her eyebrows together. “What do you mean by that, Mr. Potter?”

“I think it’s time to show her, Harry,” Draco said, gesturing towards Harry’s bag.

“What do you wish to show me?” Professor McGonagall said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Harry unclasped his bag and pulled out Ravenclaw’s journal. He placed it on the desk and pushed it a couple inches towards Professor McGonagall. “It’s all in here,” Harry explained. “Why the Gryffindor Common Room has shown up in the Dungeons, why paintings are disappearing and freezing, why mealtimes aren’t running as smoothly as before...” he trailed off as Professor McGonagall took the journal in her hands and flipped to the first page.

As she read Ravenclaw’s introduction to the journal, Professor McGonagall gasped, clasping a hand to her mouth.

“This… this cannot be,” she said in astonishment. She flipped to the next pages with the detailed floor plans of Hogwarts. Finally, she glanced up at the two of them. “How—how did you find this?”

“It was hidden in the walls of the Room of Requirement,” Draco explained. “Must have been under a very powerful stasis spell.”

Harry nodded. “From what we’ve read so far, Ravenclaw had a premonition, similar to the one that led her to building Hogwarts on this very spot, which convinced her to cast her enchantments despite having been overruled by the other founders.”

Draco continued, “In her prophetic dream, she saw that this would only foster animosity between magical folk. She knew that this would lead to an increase in Pureblood supremacy. What’s astounding is she predicted the rise of Lord Voldemort and the final battle here at Hogwarts. Ravenclaw believed that it all stemmed from the founders’ decision to divide young wixen into different Houses.”

Professor McGonagall gently closed the journal and listened intently as Harry went on.

“She didn’t want to leave Hogwarts undefended, so she cast the enchantments in a way that they would remain dormant until Hogwarts deemed itself ready for change.”

“If I’m understanding this correctly,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice low and cautious, “what we’re seeing happening in the castle today is the activation of Ravenclaw’s enchantments? Hogwarts is determining its _own_ fate?”

Harry nodded and Draco said, “Yes, Professor.”

“I had a feeling,” Professor McGonagall said, her voice so low Harry wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly.

After a few seconds of silence, McGonagall said, “What did you mean, Mr. Potter, when you said you didn’t feel you had a ‘choice’ in whether you were involved with this?”

Harry’s cheeks burned and he cleared his throat. “Er, if you turn to the last pages, Professor. You can read it for yourself.”

Professor McGonagall did so, obviously taking great care to keep her face neutral as she read.

Draco placed a hand on Harry’s knee, which was bouncing wildly, and Harry stilled. Harry brought his own hand to Draco’s and interlaced their fingers.

When McGonagall was done reading, she lowered the journal back to the desk and let out a long exhale. She instantly noticed the two of them holding hands and her lips curled in a small smile. “Looks like Ravenclaw was a powerful Seer.”

“Yes. It sure does, Professor,” Draco said.

“Well. It seems like fate certainly has a plan for the two of you,” Professor McGonagall said. “I will consider how to bring this up to the Board of Governors. I cannot ignore the signs. Hogwarts knows it is time for reform and I do not see any use in trying to fight it. Of course,” and she gestured at the journal, “I have no doubt that you two will be invaluable in these discussions and heavily involved in the actual reformation. However—” McGonagall adapted a very stern look, “This does not mean that I will accept you skimping on your studies.”

“Of course not, Professor,” Harry and Draco said in unison and Professor McGonagall’s face broke into a wide grin.

“It is time for my next class,” she said, “And _yours_. But I’m sure we will speak again on this matter very soon.”

“Thank you so much, Professor,” Draco said.

“We really appreciate you taking the time,” Harry added, “and for… well, taking us seriously.”

“Professor Dumbledore always thought highly of you, Harry,” Professor McGonagall said, switching to his given name. “He trusted you implicitly and so do I. And Draco--” she met Draco’s eyes, “I thank you for your dedication to this school and the future of the magical world. I see what you’ve been through to be here today, and you are one of the most admirable wixen I have ever met.”

Harry could see that Draco was trying his hardest not to cry at Professor McGonagall’s words.

“Thank you, Professor,” Draco said, his voice breaking slightly.

“Now, off to your next class.” Professor McGonagall’s voice was tight, as if she was also holding back tears. "If you hurry, you won’t be late.”

**

They met with Hermione, Ron, Luna, and Susan that evening in the Room of Requirement to let them know the mystery had been solved. The others listened in stunned silence as they talked about finding the book hidden in the Room of Requirement and the secret enchantments Ravenclaw cast on the castle. When they mentioned they’d brought this information to Professor McGonagall and left the journal with her, Hermione groaned.

“I can’t _believe_ I didn’t have a chance to look at the journal!” Hermione looked so put out Harry couldn’t help feeling bad for her.

“I’m sure McGonagall will let you look at it,” Ron said. “Sometime.”

Luna stood up to give Harry and Draco a hug. “Well done, both of you,” she commended them.

Susan nodded in agreement. “Very impressive detective work,” she complimented.

“We couldn’t have done it without all your help,” Draco said. “If you want to be involved as this moves forward, we’ll make sure that happens.”

“Did Professor McGonagall say _you_ two would be involved then?” Hermione asked, her expression quizzical.

“Well…” Harry bit his lip. The time had come, it seemed, to tell them all.

“She didn’t really have a choice,” Draco said, glancing at Harry. “Given the rest of Ravenclaw’s prophecy.”

“There’s more?!” Hermione practically shrieked.

“What else did she see?” Susan asked.

Harry swallowed. “She saw a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, two young wizards, united by their love for Hogwarts and each other, helping to mend the divisions caused by the House System by starting the reformation.”

Ron’s eyes went wide as dinner plates and Hermione’s eyebrows shot straight up. Susan’s mouth rounded in an “Oh!” and Luna said, “Mmm….makes sense.” 

“Does it?” Ron squeaked. “Harry… are you really… in love with him?”

Harry nodded. “Very much so.”

Draco placed his arm around Harry, grinning hugely. “Let’s be real here: he’s obsessed with me.”

“Well, that’s obvious,” Ron said.

Harry huffed and folded his arms indignantly. Everyone else laughed, and Draco leaned in to kiss Harry’s burning cheek.


	9. Epilogue

_2 months later._

*

“Where are we going?” Harry grumbled. Draco had invited him on a date—however, when he’d said Saturday morning, Harry didn’t think he'd meant at _one in the morning_. The prat had woken him approximately 20 minutes ago, ordering him to put on his shoes and grab the Invisibility Cloak.

Draco had led them to the Entry Hall and out the main doors into the freezing night air.

“You’ll see soon enough,” Draco promised as he gently guided him across the Hogwarts ground towards the Great Lake. When they arrived at the water’s edge Draco stopped.

“Why have we stopped?” Harry asked, his suspicion mounting.

“We’re here.” Draco whipped the cloak off of them.

“You’re joking.”

“A Malfoy never jokes.”

Harry snorted. “Honestly, Draco, why are we at the lake in the middle of the night?”

“It is technically the morning, my dear Harry.”

Harry groaned in frustration. “Just answer the question!”

“We’re going swimming.”

“What?! We’ll freeze--”

“Harry, Harry, Harry… Do you think I’d allow that to happen? Don’t you trust me?”

“Merlin, help me,” Harry muttered. “Yes, I do.”

“Well, then--” Draco pulled a vial out of his trouser pocket, uncorked it, and took a quick swig. He then handed it to Harry who hesitated briefly before accepting in and taking a swig of his own, emptying the contents. He instantly felt a heat rise in his body and his clothes now seemed unbearably hot.

“Now, we strip,” Draco said, giving Harry a sultry look. Harry didn’t have to be told twice. As they removed their clothes, Harry felt himself growing aroused. He’d never gone skinny-dipping before, let alone with someone as beautiful as Draco.

When they were both naked, Draco held a hand out to Harry, who eagerly took it. Together, they stepped into the lake, and Harry noticed it felt like stepping into a warm bath. They walked deeper still, until the water was up to their chests.

Draco pulled Harry closer to him and Harry decided to lift his legs, wrapping them around Draco’s waist. He brought his forehead to Draco’s and sighed happily, completely content in this moment.

“Look up,” Draco whispered. When Harry did, he saw the full moon right above them shining brightly over the water.

“Wow,” Harry whispered.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?”

“You can say that again.”

“Now… tell me that skinny dipping in the full moon isn’t a fantastic date idea?”

Harry grinned. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Draco.”

“You’re welcome, Harry.” Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry, who closed his eyes and returned the kiss with fervor. After a couple minutes, Harry pulled back slightly, his eyes still shut, and said, “I love you, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco grinned. “And I love you, Harry Potter. All the way to the moon… and back again.”

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of H/D Cluefest and the creator is currently undercover. You can follow the fest at our [Tumblr](https://hd-cluefest.tumblr.com/). Creators will be unmasked on the 15th April.


End file.
